


At His Feet

by MiscellaniousTrash (ClaraTheFabulous)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Worship, Cock Worship, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dom Lindsay Tuggey Jones, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Michael Jones, F/M, Gavin just really likes Lindsay and Michael okay, Gross filth, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Lack of Communication, Lindsay knows all, M/M, Mythology References, No Safeword, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Play, Pregnancy Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Roman Catholicism, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Gavin Free, Threesome - F/M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23591269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraTheFabulous/pseuds/MiscellaniousTrash
Summary: He sat, on his knees, praying to the goddess of his bed. The bed he’d rarely step in. The life he’d never penetrate. But he could have this. The cum off his fingers, the hormones off his cock.-Or the one where Gavin and Michael use blowjobs to settle their bets. This context changes over time.
Relationships: Gavin Free/Lindsay Tuggey Jones/Michael Jones, Gavin Free/Michael Jones
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	At His Feet

**Author's Note:**

> They don't have safewords in this, mainly because the play itself is vanilla, but everything in the story is consensual. If that's problematic for you, feel free to click away, but other than that I hope you enjoy!

He doesn’t remember the first time it happened. It just seemed like a Thing They Did, Michael and Gavin. Maybe it came out of the bets they made, or the wrestling in close quarters. The one thing that he did know is that it was both of their fault. He can’t remember who made the first move, only that it happened in tandem, two dancers meeting in the middle of an ice rink.

  
  


This is how it goes.

The earliest example he can remember is daring Michael to eat a packet of ketchup. The rest of the cast was on lunch break, off to some restaurant somewhere, left before the two of them finished editing. It was one of their firsts bets, but he remembers Michael joking, “So, what are we betting? A blowjob?”

He remembers laughing and nodding with the joke.

He remembers, just a few moments later, Michael’s fingers dug into his hair, struggling for purchase. He remembers the taste, a bit salty, like licking the palm of your hand. He remembers his own straining cock against the front of his jeans, completely ignored for the erection in front of him. 

There never was anything calm about Michael Jones. He did everything with full force. He did everything with the hint of anger, even, to the best of Gavin’s knowledge, sex.

“Oh fuck yeah, take it little bitch. This is one way to shut you the fuck up, right?” He remembers the running commentary in his ear, barely drowning out his choking noises. His gag reflex was horrendous, but Michael never seemed to mind. It didn’t interfere too much, Gavin learned. Over time, it got better, with Michaels thrusts just missing the point of no return. 

He remembers how Michael’s fingers tightened and twisted as he got closer, his head slamming against the wall behind him, hard. Gavin wondered if it hurt, and realized it probably did, especially after Michael pulled his face harshly into his pelvis, spilling into his mouth.

There was never anything healthy about Michael Jones, either. He ate blocks of cheese, pizza, burgers, shit constantly. He tasted bitter and salty, a bit like a lemon pith. Gavin aimed it at the flat of his tongue, kept it in a puddle, ran it over his teeth like toothpaste, left it in the corners of his mouth between his gums and his cheeks, swallowed the rest.

He didn’t drink the rest of the day at work. He dreamed that the rest of the office could smell it on his breath, could tell he spent his lunch break at the mercy of an angry man, his deity, had revelled in his throes. Michael would look at him funny the rest of the day, glancing at the full water bottle on his desk, a bit of a knowing twist in his brow. 

  
  


And so the dance continued, with Gavin entering bets he’d lose in front of the team in return for a gift of his own, his very own piece of Michael to take home with him. He imagined he could bottle it, even thought about asking Michael to send it to him when he masturbated before being pulled on a mental tangent to Michael pleasuring himself. Would he do it like Gavin liked? The way he’d been sucking him off for years? A bit of pressure on the bottom of the head? Or would he do it fast and methodless? With a tight hand moving at whip speeds across his shaft until it was over? What would he do with it, once it was over? Cum into a tissue? Wash it off in the shower? Throw it away or rinse it down the drain?

The thought made him sad. Michael’s orgasm was a baptism, cleansing him for the day. He couldn’t imagine such a sacreligious practice, like burning a bible to stay warm, or eating a priest to stay full. 

The first time Michael tried to kiss him after one of their…. bets, he almost denied him. He was trying to steal that ambrosia from behind his teeth, Gavin needed to protect it. A moment later he called himself an idiot and kissed Michael with all he would give him. 

The first time Michael pushed him against the closet wall, he dropped to his knees in front of Gavin, a gross perversion of faith. With a stone in his stomach and a clog in his throat, he watched Michael. Once his hand reached up his leg, gripped that thing between his legs, up to now ignored, Michael turned to look up at him with that same look from earlier. Gavin could feel a prickling of tears in the back of his eyes at that gaze being directed at him, before-

Michael stood up, “Gavin, are you okay? Like, are you into any of this?”

Gavin nodded.

“You’re not hard. At all”

Gavin apologized and left.

A few days later, he dared Michael to eat a full sized box of nerds in under 20 seconds. It was barely even a challenge. No one bothered to film it. Michael gave him that same look as before, swallowed the box in under 5 seconds, and waited for Gavin to respond. 

“Come on, I’ll give you the money”

And once again, they found themselves in the closet, Michael’s cock pistoning in and out of Gavin’s throat, an erection in his pants, surrounded by the running filth from Michael and Gavin’s heaves, spit, and choking noises.

“Yeah, that’s just where you like to be, huh. At my feet, sucking my dick. You’re such a little bitch, Gavin. My little mouth whore, just wanting to be fucked” Michael’s hand moved to the side of his head, pulling his hair and tilting his mouth over. It was uncomfortable. It made his neck hurt, but god it hurt so good. The pull on the roots of his hair, the slide of Michael’s head over his tongue, the occasionally permitted passage of air through his nose, the sting of holding his breath in the bottom of his lungs, the bit of moisture at the corner of his eyes, the feeling of Michael’s thighs under his hands. 

Michael got together with Lindsay a month later. Gavin kept an eye on him, constantly reading his expressions, like a convict waiting the ruling of a judge. 

“If I can eat this whole nugg in the next couple minutes what will you give me?”

Gavin smiled. 

So even after Lindsay started dating Michael, their dance continued. A dare, and the subsequent payment. He would have been worried, but around the third time they ran to the closet after one of Michael’s particularly disgusting dares, Michael waved to Lindsay as she passed. She winked and smiled at Gavin and continued on her way. Gavin didn’t think about it too much, to be honest.

Even when Michael couldn’t finish his dare, Gavin would wait in the bathroom for Michael to finish boking it up and fall to his knees on the dirty tile floor. Michael would be quieter on those days, a bit more gentle with Gavin’s hair. Gavin would also be more gentle, with a hand moved from one of Michael’s thighs to his stomach, running soothing circles around his abs as he ran his tongue across his circumcision scar. He’d make Michael finish with fleeting licks across his shaft, a thumb running across his scrotum, as Michael let out a little sigh. 

  
  
  
  


Once, Michael was in a weird mood as he dropped into his desk in the morning. He had a bit of a smile playing on his lips. He didn’t shout at his computer for taking too long to boot up, he didn’t even yell at Gavin for bumping his chair as he pulled out. 

Gavin wondered if it was because he’d gotten some in the morning. He could imagine it mentally: Michael would wake up with morning wood and press it against Lindsay’s sleeping form. Maybe he’d press it to her upper thigh, a hand on her shoulder to wake her up. Lindsay would roll over, smiling, as she cupped Michael’s chin in her hand. They’d make love, with him on top of her, her spread like a lounging goddess in siesta, like a Manet painting. 

Gavin wondered if she was on birth control. He wondered if they would even bother with a condom, maybe just leaving his cum in Lindsay for the day. 

He wondered, hypothetically, if he reached under Lindsay’s dress today and licked her panties like he licked Michael’s cock just the day before, if he’d find the same taste, like they both slowly had become the same person, and he their obedient servant, at the feet of them both.

His train of thought was interrupted by Michael himself. His wrist was grabbed by Michael’s rough hand, pulling him out and, presumably, towards their closet. The one they’d been using since the beginning. 

Gavin looked at him funny. This was against the rules. There was no bet, nothing leading up to their dance. It was like a tango without music, awkward and uncalled for. 

“I have to edit this video”, Gavin said. A cop-out. They always had something to edit, and Michael knew this. He dropped Gavin’s wrist and turned back to his desk.

Michael’s mouth twisted. 

“Fucking computer won’t start up”

  
  
  
  


Then Michael announced his engagement, and he thought it was all over. The apocalypse was nigh. He stopped making bets. He stopped teasing Michael into wrestling matches. He was  _ engaged  _ now, to someone else. Someone who was not him. Someone who was not a him. She could give him babies, his 15 year old brain thought. She could grow his divinity into something, a person, even. Like using holy water to grow tomatoes, she would sustain him. He was selfish, and now He’d moved on, he’d found someone more deserving of his time. Gavin understood. She was Hera, he was a mere mortal who’d drawn Michael’s gaze away for a fleeting but doomed moment. 

Michael gave him that look again. 

“Hey, I bet you I can eat a whole candy cane without biting it in under a minute”

A test. He’d be loyal, show his devotion, his faith. 

“Gavin, stop being a dumbass. She’s fine with it”

What. 

“Stop looking at me like that”

A few years later, when Gavin correctly guessed their second child, he said he just had a feeling. That was a lie. He imagined he could taste it off of Michael, her hormones changing the taste of Michael. He imagined the juices left over from last night’s lovemaking in their bed being reconstituted with his saliva now, in a closet somewhere. With Michael’s hand in his hair, he imagined that hand, perhaps unwashed now, dipping into Lindsay then. He imagined her dripping with arousal, or maybe  _ god, maybe _ , with his cum. He could almost feel the smoothness in texture in Michaels fingers from her residue. He wanted to taste his fingers, to lick the salt off him like a cow on a warm summer’s day. He sat, on his knees, praying to the goddess of  _ his  _ bed. The bed he’d rarely step in. The life he’d never penetrate. But he could have this. The cum off his fingers, the hormones off his cock. 

When Michael came a few moments later, he tasted of flowers. He tasted like Gavin’s high school girlfriend, feminine and soft. 

A few days later, Michael came up to him at 4:30 in the afternoon, just a little while before both of them would leave. 

“Come over after work”, he said, a glint in his eye, “I’ve got a double burrito I’ve got to finish”. 

This was not allowed. This was not a thing they’d done. He’d come over after work, sure, but never with this undercurrent of their workplace dance. Michael’s home was the balcony, and Gavin was the longing figure below, never permitted up his apartment building steps, through that locked door. 

Regardless, Gavin followed. Like a criminal called to the gallows, Gavin climbed into Michael’s car just a few moments later, his feet in the sea of fast food wrappers on the floor. They rode in silence, Gavin keeping his gaze firmly out the window on the side of the road. Michael glanced over at him with that same look, a mix of worry and confusion, every few seconds throughout the ride. Gavin pretended not to notice. 

He was worried himself. What would they do to him? Would Lindsay, in her heavenly glory and wrath, scream at him for sucking off her husband? Or maybe she thought there was something more. He thought about if she would get mad at him for sleeping with her husband, and he would be guilty. A crime he’d never get to feel the thrill of, and he’d be guilty of it. He’d apologize profusely, never talk to Michael again. He’d quit if he had to. If Lindsay asked. Move back to England, focus on some other project. He doesn’t know how he’d continue. He wouldn’t be able to stomach doing YouTube. He’d been doing it for so long. Slow mo guys always reminded him of wishing to work at Roosterteeth. 

He’d been 17, the first time he stayed with Geoff. The first time he knew,  _ knew _ , where exactly he wanted to work when he was older. He’d been 18, the first time he made a successful video on YouTube and the hope of coming to America finally flourished. He’d been 23, the first time he’d met Michael, 23 when they first-

He’d give it up in a heartbeat, if Lindsay asked. If. When. This was inevitable. He was about to--

Michael stopped at his apartment building parking lot. He leaned forward to look at Gavin’s face.

“Are you…. Are you crying?”

Gavin wiped his face and denied it. 

“How could you bring me here?” 

“How  _ could _ I?”

“You know exactly what I mean”

Michael didn’t reply for a while. “Come upstairs. I have something to show you”

So Gavin gathered his things, sorted his bag out of the wrappers and delivery bags at his feet, and followed Michael up to his floor. 

Michael unlocked the door and pushed it open, watching Gavin with that same stare as before. Inside the apartment was Lindsay, as beautiful as ever. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, with a cup of tea in her hands, just as always. She was standing there, casually, wearing nothing but a long, sheer robe and lace underthings. 

Michael came behind him after closing the apartment door, and wrapped his arms around Gavin’s waist. 

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

Gavin nodded, lost for words. Michael ran the palm of his hand over Gavin’s erection, painfully pressing against the zipper of his pants. He hadn’t remembered to hide it, too focused on Lindsay’s form. 

She was not Hera. She was Persephone. A darkness in her eyes, none of the maternity showing through. She smelt like burning tea leaves, smokey and pungent. Her blonde hair fell to her back, and she looked at Gavin, a bit amused. She moved the arm holding the tea to show more of herself, and his knees almost gave out. She  _ was _ beautiful. She was the Manet painting he always knew, she was Olympia. She was the kind of woman people fought wars for, he thought.

“On your knees, boy” he collapsed in a sea of limbs. He wasn’t sure who said it, it must have been one of them. It didn’t matter. He’d do what either of them told him. He’d march into certain death for them. He’d ruin his life for them. 

For now though, he sat patiently on his knees, silent, waiting for them to take action. Lindsay took a few steps forward, ran her fingers through his hair, and pushed his head to make him look up at her. In this light, she was even more divine. The fluorescent bulbs behind her illuminated her hair like a halo. 

“Go on, Gavin. Touch me” she said. He reached up and, like turning a page in the bible, eased her panties down her legs. She smelled like burning meadows here, too. Roses and lilies, their aromas opened up to his tongue like a flower bud. Her legs, spread slightly, braced Gavin between them. Just like Michael, she dug her fingers into his scalp and pulled on his hair, rambled the whole time. But she was different. She didn’t force his head around, and she talked differently too.

“You’re so beautiful down there, Gavin. You’re doing so well. Making me feel so good, Gavin. Michael talks about your mouth all the time, and he’s completely right. It feels so good. You’re such a good boy, Gavin. Our good boy.”

Michael was still behind them, had one of his hands messing with the hair on the back of Gavin’s head. Gavin didn’t hear him unzipping his pants, but he must have in the meantime while Gavin was distracted. He could hear his other hand in his ear, sliding across his cock, right next to his face. Gavin whined, moved the hand that had been tracing the edges of Lindsay’s pussy to touch Michael’s cock himself. The angle was off, but he traced over Michael’s head and through the slit. Michael eventually intervened, wrapping a hand over his, forming a tight ring for him to fuck into. 

Lindsay’s other hand caressed his cheek, wiping a tear out of his eye. He wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but now that he knew he couldn’t stop. More tears ran across his face as he closed his eyes and breathed in. Lindsay and Michael. Lindsay. Michael. Lindsay and Michael. Michael and Lindsay. Michael. Michael. Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. Lindsay. 

“He’s such a good boy, Michael” he heard distantly. He focused on the budding flower in front of him. He ran his tongue through her lips, teased at her clit with the tip of his tongue, closed his lips over hers, bit at the outer edges to tease, flattened his tongue against the whole of her, dipped into her vagina, the hole that Michael had fucked the day before, that he had dreamed about Michael’s cock penetrating, only to learn the beauty of it in itself. She was the rocks on which his ship would crash, the siren and the sea. She tasted like honeysuckle. Nutty and sweet like decadent baklava. She smelled the same, pungent from his closeness, filling his nose to the brim with her aroma. 

Michael pulled his face away from her, and he followed, dreamily. He looked up at them and felt like he was being born, eyes still adjusting to the harsh light from the kitchen, a man and a woman gazing down upon him with adoration. 

“Go to the couch, dear” Lindsay spoke softly. He wasn’t sure his legs were functioning at that point, but they managed to push him towards and onto the couch. 

“Now lie back” Michael said, walking towards him. Gavin lied on his back, his erection still straining against his jeans as he watched them approach. It was almost unbearable. He found himself crossing his legs for the slightest bit of stimulation. 

Michael unbuttoned and removed his jeans and boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down. Gavin looked down, saw his erection pressed against his lower stomach, deep red and irritated. Lindsay sat beside his head, still stroking his hair. 

Michael spoke first, “you know, the first time I tried this, it wasn’t so successful.” He smiled up at Gavin, no malice in his eyes. “Now do you get it?”

And really, Gavin did. They were his god and goddess, yes. They were so incredibly beautiful in and of themselves. As individuals. As a couple. But he was not their acolyte. He was not merely a worshipper, never to be noticed by those who he devoted his entire life to. He was more than that, more to them. He could not describe it. He was their pet, in that he entertained and served them. He was their child, in that they took care of him as best they could. He was their creation, in that there was nothing to him that they didn’t form in some way. Without them, he was nothing, yes. But without him, they were miserable. He was their sub.

Lindsay gazed down at him from above, watched his hair fall over her thighs.

Michael kissed the inside of his knee before working his way down his thigh, between his legs. He kissed the head of Gavin’s cock, looking up at him as he spread his lips around the tip. His hands migrated to Gavin’s thigh and the base of his cock, guiding it further into Michael’s mouth. He was gentle, slow with teasing licks over his shaft. It was such a stark contrast to how Michael took pleasure when the roles were reversed. 

Gavin rolled his head back into Lindsay’s thighs as Michael began pumping his hand in time with his mouth. Lindsay ran her hand over his face before looking back at Michael. She took her other hand and reached for Gavin’s chest, stroking over his pecs and teasing his nipples. She leaned over his shoulder to watch Michael more closely, and suddenly Gavin was overwhelmed by her scent once again. Her legs fell open as she rotated to her side, presenting herself once again to Gavin. He leaned in, and started teasing around her slit, running his teeth over the outer lips of her labia, her inner thighs. She moaned, prompting Michael to look back up at her. Upon seeing Gavin, buried in his wife’s cunt, he pulled his cock out of his mouth. 

“You’re so fucking right, Lindsay,” he said, “He’s such a good fucking boy”

Gavin whined, high pitched and boyish, once again squeezing his eyes shut in fear of another tear falling across his cheeks. Lindsay ran her hand over his outstretched neck and down his shoulder, her head falling back in the wake of his pleasure. He chased her cunt as it moved, his torso now twisted across the couch, Michael on one end and Lindsay on the other. He nearly forgot who was where. It was now his own cunt he was licking into, Michael’s cock hanging between his legs, begging to be sucked. It was his own mouth now kissing along his hips, biting the skin across his abs. It was him who paused in place when faced with too much pleasure.

Gavin leaned back from Lindsay’s legs, unable to maintain a clear head. Her smell dissipated, and before he could think clearly, Michael’s mouth sucked particularly hard on his shaft. He leaned his head back, arching his back, leaning up into Lindsay’s mouth on his nipple. As he came down, he realized he had dug his own hands into his scalp in the wake of his pleasure. He whimpered and buried his face in the crease of Lindsay’s legs to escape the harsh light of the kitchen. 

Leaning up from Gavin’s now spent cock, Michael pulled Gavin’s face towards him. He leaned in for a kiss, molding Gavin’s pliant body onto his back. It was only after a few moments kissing Michael that he realized he tasted like Gavin himself. The taste was everywhere in his mouth, behind his teeth, under his tongue. He found a pocket of his own cum in the corner of Michael’s mouth, prompting a long-winded moan and his body leaning up to meet Michael with fervor. 

Later that night, Gavin got to rest his head on Michael’s chest as Lindsay rode his cock above them both, giving him an occasional kiss on his shoulder. 

Later that night, Michael would jokingly say, “Lindsay lean against the pillows, he might just suck the cum out of you”. And Gavin would look at Lindsay, a bit of a question in his eyes, and Lindsay would smile at him and lie back, permission given, as Gavin started to lick his way around her once again. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing porn in a long time, so go easy on me. This is also my first time mixing plot and sex. I hope that comes through in the final product. I recently read Call me By Your Name, which is a bit of a raunchy book but also poetic? (there's also an allusion to the book, if anyone can spot it) So yeah, this is my hand at raunchy sex scenes that also have to do with character development and a certain level of beauty. I hope that makes sense.
> 
> Comments and kudos make my day, so feel free to voice your thoughts!


End file.
